


Bonding time

by Fionir



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Ben Hargreeves Deserves Better, Drug Withdrawal, Episode: s01e06 The Day That Wasn't, Flashbacks, How Do I Tag, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad, Sibling Bonding, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Urination, but diffrent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:09:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23119003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fionir/pseuds/Fionir
Summary: Klaus still heard Diego’s words ringing through his mind like a hazy eccho. “If I see a boner, I’m out!” And he had tried, really tried, but well....
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves, Dave/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Bonding time

Klaus still heard Diego’s words ringing through his mind like a hazy eccho. “If I see a boner, I’m out!” And he had tried, really tried, but well... Now he sat there, tied to a chair and left to his own currently very limited devices. In other situations, this might have been exactly his kind of thing, but currently a massive headache pushed on the inside of his head and cold sweat had started running down his back. He felt like he needed to pee and he knew that if he really had to, things would get weird and uncomfortable, because despite all of it, he still had a boner.  
When Diego had seen the bulge in his pants he had pulled the knott he had been tying tighter and flipped him off on his way out. And the worst things was… Klaus was sure they had been about to log in some real quality bro time before the end of the world. Diego had been muttering out some weird shit that only half made it through the haze of the addict’s mind but it had sounded real deep. And now he was on his way out the door. On the prospect of being stuck here Klaus’s sense of self preservation suddenly decided to kick in again.   
“No, no, no,” Klaus muttered to himself. He should have just taken his drugs and be done. ”Diego!” he called out but didn’t get an answer. His heart was pounding like mad trying to catch up with the footsteps he heart from the hall. He tried to move in the ropes but all that did was rub his skin raw. “Diego, you brick! Don’t just leave me here…” he screamed at the top of his lungs, still fighting. Diego's answer only barely reached him.

“Fuck off, pervert!”

“Oh, I would love to!” he spat back with vigor and waited for another answer; any reaction really. All he got were Diego’s haisty footsteps on the stairs slowly fading.

“Diego!” he tried again. Waiting another heartbeat before sinking against the ropes that were holding him. “Scheiße,” he muttered to himself, giving in to the frustration. He tried twisting and winding one more time but there was no more give and his fight drained fast, cold sweat running down the small of his back. He blinked slowly losing focus all together and after a little while he froze limbly hanging on the chair.

The silence around him sunk in. Diego faded from his mind as he closed his eyes listening to the drumming inside his head. Things were so quiet he could hear the rush of blood in his ears. Or was it the hissing of a fuse? It only took a second to forget where he was. The drumming started sounding like a heartbeat, like bullets hitting earth. The wood creaking turned into intangible voices, screaming around him.   
The flashback hit him with the explosion of noise, the memory of gunfire; Hell broken loose on the very earth they had to crawl through to live through this, one painful moment at a time.

At least he was with Dave. Strong and kind and vulnerable and beautiful Dave. 

At least he wasn’t alone… 

At least he had…

  
But he hadn’t. And he was alone; 

And he was freezing and hurting and he needed to get to his drugs now.

He started thrashing against the ropes more violently. Felt them cut in, but not move an inch. He tried to twist out of them but couldn’t, because fucking Diego, while no clue about actual bondage -He wouldn’t have guessed- apparently had still managed to make those ropes hold for their dear life. 

He only stopped when the withdrawal induced headache started to turn to nausea and he wasn’t sure which way was left or right. He hadn’t gained any give, not that he had noticed anyway. There were a few more helpless twitches and frustrated whines, but they did just about as little. He felt the tears burn hot, where his skin still felt numb and cold.

His arms were red and bruised by that point, but at least they wasn’t freezing anymore. At least he could tell the sweat from the mud and the throbbing in his head from his sobbing… crying...helpless shaking of a lifeless body.   
He still felt miserable… more miserable than usual. 

More alone than usual…

It took some time until he had the energy to lift his head again. His eyes were still burning from the tear, skin sore, yet the cold had him shiver. Only when he desperately scanned the room for any other way to free himself did he notice Ben lurking in a far corner. He hadn’t exactly kept track of his ghostly companion but he had been sure he had seen him leave before. He blankly stared at the specter for what felt like a solid minute, before he figured out what seemed so off.  
Ben was avoiding to look back at him. He snuck peaks to see if Klaus was still looking. He stuck to the shadows, but Klaus could make it out anyway, or maybe he made it up, he didn’t care. Something was off.   
"Ben," he tried to get his brother’s attention. His head turned but his eyes seemed to look right through Klaus. _What a strange irony._ There was no reaction beyond that, but it was something. It was someone and that definitely felt better than being alone right now.   
He really didn’t want to be alone right now.

Klaus didn't even know how his deceased brother was supposed to help him. His head wasn’t exactly up for thinking through his stupid impulses. He just needed something to distract him from this shit. "Hey, Ben!" he called out again. Getting him to talk was a good start... or it would be once he got there. Klaus already felt the urge to scratch and pick, but he could only dig his nails into his own skin, hands tied together just above his crotch. 

Ben had seen worse.   
Ben knew how to distract him from the withdrawal symptoms, if only a little.   
Ben had a way to poke his stupid little junky head like no one else. Probably because no one else ever took him seriously. He couldn’t blame them, half of the time he had no clue what he was saying either. He wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t take himself seriously half of the time. But the thing right now was: Even Ben was outright ignoring him.

“Did you die again?” Klaus aimed right where it usually hit worst still unsuccessful. Usually Ben was all snarky remarks and sharp retorts. If his fucked up brain hadn’t been so preoccupied with drugs maybe he’d have noticed the pang of worry fluttering through his head like some crippled moth.   
But not now.   
Now the the lurking silence was just infuriating... for a split second, before he realized he didn’t have that kind of energy right now either. The short flare of anger fizzled out and just left him hanging limb and pathetic. "I need to pee," he whined out in frustration and tried to wiggle out of the ropes again. It was a weak attempt and got him nowhere. But what else was he supposed to do?

He looked up at Ben silently pleading but just got a glimpse of the blush shooting to his face before he could turn away again. An absolut idiotic idea shot through Klaus’ clouded but primarily desperate mind. It was filthy and wrong and a lot of other things he didn’t care about, because he needed to DO something. And right now this was the only straw to grasp at. 

Or the only one his wreck of a brain could come up with. It didn't take more than the idea of it and his freakin hard on was back. However it did that. As if he did not just have a flashback. Whatever. His head was everywhere at once right now anyway.

And again… under different circumstances… 

"Benny-Boo!" he lulled, propping his hips up, to present the growing bulge and run his fingers across it. He could barely reach it with the restriction of the ropes. "Like what you see." He bit his bottom lip, drawing it through his teeth. Shame wasn’t part of his vocabulary, not usually and much less now. This was as good as any distraction. Part of him preferred this over talking actually.

The part in his pants was specifically up for this idea.

This also was just generally more fun than talking.   
No honestly. If he ignored the shitty circumstances, he could get into this. And judging by how Ben's eyes turned back to him and lingered, he did too. 

Talking would have meant dealing with why he was doing this. So in that regard this was unimaginably better. He didn't even want to start thinking about why. It wasn’t like this was the first time he had gotten himself off on the idea of Ben watching. It probably wasn’t the first time he was watching, to be honest. Well, it was the first time, Klaus specifically acted because he KNEW Ben was watching. And he wouldn't lethis limited measures hinder this show. He’d never hear the end of this either way, so he could at least make it good.

This was fucking kinky.   
Part of him loved it.  
Part of him wished it was Dave instead.

But the biggest part of him didn’t give a shit cause anything was better than the fucking cold turkey and what it did to his head. Or thinking about the things that had put him in this situation. Or the fact that the fucking world was ending in three days.

He tried to wiggle his hands a little closer to his hips, make this a little more enticing. He found that moving them towards his crotch worked surprisingly better than trying to get them out. If he really pushed it, he could barely reach the zipper with his finger tips. He turned his eyes back to the specter and met Ben’s glassy gaze. This time neither of them could turn away. Klaus worked himself up, savouring the way his brother’s eyes clung to his hands, but kept wandering back up to his face. "I could really use a hand over here, brother." He hissed breathless, straining to reach just that little further. The friction was good but if only he could give himself a little more space...

Rambling came naturally. "I guess Your hands wouldn't do much good anyway," he sighed, raising his voice to a breathy moan as he gave his dick another stroke through the fabric. The pressure in his bladder heightened the sensation.

There was a deepening blush on Ben’s face, but so far he had not moved. The conflict in his expression was delicious to watch, maybe even overcome. Klaus licked his lips. He was not the only one getting a kick out of this. The thought was thrilling; somehow even more so with the knowledge that his brother was writhing in shame. Klaus was sure his eyes didn’t even tell the half of it.

"What do you wanna see, Ben?” Klaus lulled. The ropes were rubbing his wrists raw, while he stroked himself through his pants. The heat was building against the restraining fabric and the threatening pressure of a different kind of relief. The growing pleasure dulled the dizziness in his head. Of course it wasn't gone but holy fuck did it feel good to have something else to focus on. It wasn’t enough though, not nearly.

At one point Ben’s mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out.

He sighed and desperately bucked his hips upwards to get more. The bite of the rope at his arms wasn’t enough to drown out the disgusting feeling of cold sweat trickling down his back. He gave a stuttering moan, more frustration than excitement and closed his eyes, trying to push through. The pressure in his bladder started to hurt. He felt his own fingers trembling and dug his nails into his palms, but kept going, trying to hold it in. Trying to ignore the wave of ice cold need drowning him.  
He took a shaky breath. Tears were collecting in the corner of his eyes. He should have gotten another fix before this, just one last one, one last… 

“Can ghosts get one up, Ben, tell me?” He bit out too loud in his own ears. Which was perfect. He needed to drown of those thoughts. There were too many thoughts stammering through his hazy mind intangibly melting together, he just blurted out the first ones that stuck.   
“Have you watched me jerking off?” Klaus speech was staggered, much like the jerking movements of his body. “What does ghost jizz look like, Ben? Can you even get off?” Klaus mewled. Words merging into each other and trickling out of his memory as soon as they were out of his mouth.

He felt his conscious drifting deeper into the haze, every other thought lost on how badly he needed a fix. His mind started imagining it… the colors, the surreal clearity… the fuck… he needed to get a grip. The drugs, he needed to just… just...keep talking.

“Want me to help?” Klaus’s voice was growing thin. “You can tell me, brother. This is your little private show," he husked, eyes closed, body bend as far as his ties allowed it. He almost didn’t feel the pain of the ropes cutting in anymore, between his bladder and the headache and the painful chill, drowning him in nauseating cold, while his skin felt like it was on fire. And somehow his boner was still happily pushing up against the ziplock. 

Somehow he just rubbed and squealed until the wave of excruciating pain had washed over him and things dulled down to the throbbing, still hurting, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. A little pain was fine. Gosh, he’d never needed to pee this badly.

He was about ready to just let it flow.

"I want it, Ben…" he hissed out, ropes straining against the wood and his clothes and reddened skin and still not letting him go anywhere. "You'd touch me, right Ben?" Klaus grunted through clenched teeth. At this point he was just trying to push down but nothing worked. There was no relief, even as he tried to just, let it go. But nothing did flow.  
Klaus bit his teeth, gnarling. He felt hot in pain and cold in need and he felt his mouth run dry with the stale taste of relapse on the horizon, as it reared its ugly head in another flare. 

The lack of friction was frustratingly limiting his pleasure, but pee or jizz something had to come out there soon or he’d explode.   
Or maybe his brain would splatter out of his head first. The spinning headache was ripping at his temples like it wanted to grind right through. 

He wasn’t sure which was the worse way to die and he didn’t really want to think about it either, so he just kept talking in hopes that could get him anywhere… anywhere other than where his junky brain wanted to take him. "I'm sure you'd take good care of your brother, right Benny?" he breathed, his own voice hurting in his ears.   
He opened his eyes again, because the blurred pictures in his mind weren’t helping. They kept going back to distorting bright colors and hazy memories. 

He found that Ben had stepped forward without a sound or word. It sparked a hopeful euphoria in his desperation.

“Come on Ben, touch me,” Klaus keened too far gone to think about how little sense that made. What was sense anyway, he was talking to the ghost of his dead brother. A high pitched laugh escaped him, getting stuck in his throat halfway through and turning into a ecstatic whine. His eyes were glued to spector as he moved. Ben reached out with fingers Klaus KNEW not to have any effect on this world anymore, yet he couldn’t get his eyes off of them. Ben stepped in front of him, standing half between his tied legs. Ben’s hand brushed past his temple.

The fingers dug into the sweaty hair, moving some of it out of his forehead.  
Klaus felt it like a wind brushing past him and it send a shiver down his spine… Klaus wrote it of as imagination. He only saw surprise on the ghost's face. And at first he didn’t get it. 

Whatever. If that was what his fucked up mind gave him, he’d take it. He saw Ben was confused, a whole new conflict building up, but he needed to get him to stop and just touch him. “More, Ben. Wherever you want,” he sighed.

The wind in his hair shifted and he instinctively leaned into it. Klaus would think about what was happening once thinking was a thing for him again. Right now he just needed.  
And this was one thing he needed, that he could actually allow himself to have. 

“I need you, Ben,” Klaus whined. Ben was wavering. 

  
He felt the cooling sensation leaving his head and tried chasing it, tilting his head until his neck hurt. _"_ Nononono…” Klaus whimpered eyes flying open and blinking a few times before refocusing on Ben. He felt strung like a live wire. Ben took another small step forward, their legs almost touching. Klaus swallowed hard. Ben crouched down, eyes turning up to look up at him. Nothing seemed to move in this painful slither of eternity. 

“Please.” Klaus tried to lean towards his brother. “Please, Ben.” Their eyes were on about the same height now, and Klaus’s were pleading. 

Ben just stared back. He brought up a hand, wiping a tear away, that had been rolling down Klaus’s face. He hadn’t even realized… the warm trails kept flowing, mixing with the cold sweat on his collarbones, soaking the obnoxiously colorful shirt, that already stuck to his chest like a second skin. And he suddenly couldn’t ignore the reality of what was happening anymore. It slowly sank through the thick fog of euphoria and withdrawal. That was not his imagination. Those were his dead brother’s fingers, wet with his very tangible tears.  
The ghost stared at his own hands, feeling the wetness. “Please,” Klaus begged. Ben’s hand reached out again, torturously slow.   
It felt like they were trying to reach through the rippling pond that were the colors of Klaus’s reality without disturbing them but they kept weirdly shifting in his hazy vision. It all zoomed in in an almost painful flash, when Ben took hold of his tied wrists. His touch was cold against the bruised skin and he was gentle when moving them out of the way, bending them up against Klaus’s chest. And he froze. For a couple of seconds it felt like his head had been dipped in ice water, the sensation so crisp and clear it almost felt surreal. He could only stare back at the ghost in front of him. 

Ben held his dilated gaze... inquiring, questioning, unsure. What did this mean? Klaus brain managed to come through for only a moment, before the ever shifting curtain of started to dull his senses again.

“ _Ja,”_ -Klaus had to clear his throat for his voice to actually come out- _“_ More. Please, go on!" he rasped, with a small voice. A sob broke from his chest, as the withdrawal flared up sending fire through his skin. He didn’t getting it. He didn’t need to. Where Ben held him, the burning ceased. His skin prickled and it felt heavenly. He didn’t need to understand it; he just needed more of that. 

Ben shifted and Klaus moaned in response squeezing his eyes shut to stop the tears. “It burns, Ben, please,” he whined, “Make it stop!”

The second spectral palm reached out oh so carefully slow. Klaus closed his eyes and threw his head back growling out in frustrated suspense. He wasn’t sure how long he could take this. His brain already felt like it was splitting apart. He couldn’t stand watching, waiting for Ben. 

The groan fizzled into a helpless whine, when he felt Ben’s fingers trailing down from his navel. He wiggled in his ropes, trying to get closer but too limp to move much. The whine turned to a weak whimper as the usually incorporeal fingertips brushed the wet shirt up and reached skin just above his waistband. The cool touch had Klaus shivering but he didn’t look. He knew Ben was watching him. Listening. Klaus only was half aware of the noises he made at this point. He surprised himself with a pathetic squeak that should have been a word. Another plead. 

He didn’t try to speak again as Ben’s fingertips started pushing, a spike of almost-pain shooting down to his crotch. He held his breath, but hell did it feel good. Klaus just let go. Let the sensation be his drug… was it really so different? Ben kept pressing and it created ripples in the patterns just like the drugs. It told him sweet secrets and some lies and felt so painfully amazing, that Klaus’s eyes teared up again.  
Maybe if Ben kept touching him, he could get sober... but would he ever really be sober like this? Did he care? His own voice echoed in his mind forming a cacophony that almost seemed to swirl with the colors dancing behind his eyelids.

  
What felt like eternity were mere seconds until Ben moved a little further feeling for something just above where Klaus really wanted him to touch. Needed him to. Words were beyond him but in his head he heard himself begging for release. 

Any release.

On the outside there was nothing more than incoherent stammering and then a sharp inhale as Ben pressed his full palm against his abdomen. The pain shot up his spine and made him jerk in his seat, ropes digging in deeper. His eyes flew open unfocussed. But the pain settled and sweet release washed over him.  
“Just let it flow,” Ben said, voice tense and his face tinged in red. Klaus tilted his head to look at him. The pressure in Klaus’ lower half flowed in a warm wetness, soaking his pants, running down his legs. The bulge deflated as quickly cooling puddles formed on the seat of the chair and in his shoes. 

The tears started flowing too. Klaus just let himself fall forward, head brushing against Ben’s shoulder. The ropes kept him from leaning against the spectre, but it was whatever at this point. Klaus was done. “I need you, Ben!” he sobbed voice rough and unfocused, “Don’t go, please, don’t leave me.” He felt so good, so terribly good in the cacophony of pain and relief flooding his world, washing away everything but that very excurtionating fear. 

Ben let go of the his wrists and leaned in closer until Klaus felt the ever unchanging leather jacket cold against his forehead. Ben’s fingers weren’t any warmer, as they brushed back his sweaty hair making him shiver. They lingered in his neck, slowly stroking circles in his hairline. “Don’t leave me alone, too,” Klaus whimpered eyes closed, as the tension that had kept him warm dissipated. Every last bit of energy was drained from him with it and left him with only the numbness and the hard reality that had dragged him here.

It left only cold, after Ben had extinguished the burns.

Klaus’s breath was heavy, his body still hanging against the ropes but there was a serene calm even in his discomfort. It washed over him as the warm stream from his hips came to an end in an uncomfortable trickle of cooling body fluids. By the time his sobbing had stopped, Klaus was freezing worse than before. He started shivering in Ben’s arms. Exhausted. Limb.

But at least Ben was there.  
“This was the best piss of my life,” he sighed and then sniffled. He heard his own voice as if through a cloud. And then he just stayed like that for a while. There was no smell coming off of Ben just the quiet chill of death. It was odd, that it felt so comforting, Klaus thought, letting himself sink in.   
Everything felt dull and fluffy and he just wanted to drown in it.

  
Only slowly did he come back to his senses.   
Only slowly did he realize that, yes, Ben was still touching him. Actually touching him. He was still leaning against Ben’s shoulder. 

His ghost brother’s usually very much intangible spectral shoulder. He expected a rush of panic but it was nothing more than a weak peak of awareness running through his system. He had no energy to be scared or worried or... anything. He had no thoughts on this, just unformulated questions that alluded his grasp much like reality did oh so often.  
“How’s this working?” he mumbled, voice barely more than a breath. He tilted his head to meet Ben’s eyes staring back at him… or through him? What was that expression on his face? Klaus was usually so good at looking through people’s masks. 

“Don’t know,” Ben muttered, pulling back carefully. Klaus swallowed dryly. His throat hurt. His eyes wandered along his brother’s frame trying to figure out what was going on. They came to linger on the bulge in his pants. _So ghosts can get one up_ , he noted not remembering where that thought had come from. He tried to lick his lips to wet them but his tongue was dry as sandpaper.

His own arousal had been gone, but he felt a thing in the back of his head peak up at the discovery. It wasn’t the desperate need from earlier. Not the accidental stimulation. 

He was also pretty sure it wasn't the withdrawal. That one was still very much there, a constant background hum of throbbing pain. This feeling was more gentle, a little more sober… a little softer. Especially with how conflicted Ben looked. Klaus couldn’t really find the words to quite place it.

  
“What’s wrong?” he asked voice small and tender and still weak. He slowly sank back against the wood, the cold puddle on the seat of the chair had him frown as it soaked his pants again. 

Ben got up straightening his jacket. He held Klaus’s worried gaze with his own. But he was still guarded. “Why are you doing this?”, the ghost asked, his voice measured. Klaus slowly realized that what he was seeing on Ben’s face was hurt.   
Klaus looked around a little clueless. “Do what?” He furrowed his brows in gentle worry. Maybe he had overdone it.   
Ben crossed his arms. “Why now?” he asked trying to sound calm but Klaus knew him. Klaus knew his dead brother; probably better than he knew any of his living siblings. It came naturally when you were kind of stuck with each other. Though Klaus had been glad to have Ben around more often than not. That was part of why Vietnam had been one of the scariest times in his life… on top of everything else that had happened there.

Klaus squeezed his eyes shut. His thoughts were all over the place. What had he been trying to figure out again?   
Ben was irritated, right, something was wrong. 

If only his moosh of a brain could focus a little better on actually thinking. Trying to pin down his thoughts felt more like a game of crazy chicken. And he had never been good at that. Was fun when on a trip though… 

That was not where he had wanted to go with that thought... 

Klaus shook his head, trying to set it straight again.

He looked back up when Ben huffed. He had started to move around the chair.

“Wait! What are you doing?” Klaus panicked. He instinctively shifted in the bonds to get away from him; without success of course. He tried to follow him with his eyes, neck twisting strainingly and started to realize what his brother was trying to do. “No, no I’m fine, Ben," he rumbled, "This is great. I can’t stop now. I need to do this!” 

Ben did stop and turned to face him, tears silently running down his face. He looked so goddamn hurt and Klaus wasn’t even sure what he had done wrong. It wasn't like Ben to sulk like that. “After all the times I tried to help you, you choose the fucking end of the world to get off the drugs. After sitting through all that therapy with you… Why now?” he raised his voice, heavy with frustration.

“Because there’s not much time left,” Klaus whined squeezing his eyes shut at the memory. Not of the thousand times Ben had been there with him, intangible conscience in his back, but if the one time he hadn't. The reason why he needed to do this now. It wasn't Ben's fault, it was just unfair. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about the alternative. The alternative that would have been so endlessly easier than this. Any of this.   
“Exactly. You heard Diego. NOW that you actually have every reason to want to pop every pill on the planet, you decide to finally go sober!” Ben bit back almost yelling. He stepped away, arms stiffly folded across his chest, hand curled into fists. Klaus could do nothing but stare with doey eyes, trying to understand. Ben measured his voice again, “And you don’t even tell me anything. After everything. I don’t get it.”

“There’s something I need to do, Ben!” Klaus pleaded. Tears started collecting in his eyes, he wasn't sure if he had enough of them left to actually fall.

“I’m dead, not deaf,” Ben huffed and turned to start walking away.

"Ben", Klaus called out, the cold threat of being alone causing a surge of panic.

“I’ve had enough of this mockery,” Ben mumbled.Klaus could barely make out the words and maybe it would have been better if he hadn’t. They had not been meant for him.

“Well this is not about you," Klaus snapped, lashing at the ghost’s back, "so what the fuck is wrong with-” He was loudly interrupted by the harsh sound of a slap. 

The pain throbbed through his face in the utter silence that followed. 

They just stared at each other.

Ben’s hand slowly sank back down to loosely hang at his side. Klaus watched the teardrops falling from his brother's chin and actually causing ripples in the puddle of urine he was standing in. “I’ve been stuck watching you wreck yourself for years. Suddenly you disappear into thin air and come back worse than ever… and you don’t even tell me what the fuck happened with you.” Ben was shaking as he spoke. His voice grew louder as he did. Klaus mouth went dry, words failing him as he slowly began to understand. “You left me alone, too and then you shut me out!” 

Ben was crying and so was Klaus. He was not entirely sure where the water even came from. He didn’t get all of the nuances in the cocktail of emotions that had him stunned.

Ben took a slow step backwards and Klaus voice still wasn't back yet. Klaus had tried so many times, yes, and failed, even though Ben had never given up on him. Unlike everyone else. The others had barely noticed when he had been gone. But why didn't he see, that this might be the only chance Klaus had left.

"And you don’t even realize that you’re my only chance to have any kind of life!” Ben was full on shouting. His mouth slowly closed with a shaky inhale. “But you 'need me’, alright,” the ghost sounded absolutely exasperated. Shadow of a pained smile flashed across his face, as he cleared his throat.

Ben glanced off into empty space for a long moment, before capturing the addict’s gaze again. Klaus couldn’t stop staring, dumbfounded by the fact he had never even thought of this. Thought of what his powers meant for Ben; what Vietnam must have meant for Ben.  
“Hey look,” Ben pushed out past a growing lump in his throat. Klaus could hear it almost cut his voice off all together, when Ben added, “You did it.” There was no joy there, just tears. And then Ben turned and just started walking.

“Ben!” Klaus yelled out fighting against the ropes again, with all the panic the potential finality of this moment caused. “I’m sorr- … urg” The chair caught a wedge in the floorboards and send him falling on his side. He barely felt the impact or the ropes cut in in new angles. 

The ghost started faded out if reality and into the shadows like Klaus had seen him do a thousand times. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed just going limb. What was he supposed to do if Ben didn’t come back?  
How was he supposed to fix this. 

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, seconds… minutes… 

But when he heard footsteps fading in not on the stairs or the floorboards but simply out of nothing. He stretched his neck to look around. It was stiff and hurt like hell, but he didn't care. “Ben?” he instinctively asked. The noise came closer, then the floor past the open doorway started creaking, as they stepped around the corner and just faded into a being in front of him.

A being he had been craving to see again for what felt like eternity. The tears had him shaking again. “Dave,” he sobbed out, barely believing his own eyes, yet blinking desperately to not miss a second of it. The ghost smiled. Klaus could have never forgotten that face. And he smiled back; smiled so wide his face hurt. "I'm so sorry," he sniffled trying to reach out. He was so unbelievably happy and mad at himself, that he wasn't sure what was making him cry. 

Either hurt.

But he had made it.

He had finally made it.

He wanted to hold Dave and never let go again.  
He wanted to see Ben. And apologize. A thousand times.   
And everything hurt.

But somehow he was still happy.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hi and big Thanks for reading.  
> I don't really know what I wrote here... but it happened... Just wanted to say two things now that it's done:  
> First of all, don't do drugs.  
> Secondly, I don't think this is an acurate depiction of withdrawal or PTSD but I'm sorta running with what the show depicted and a little internet research; I also do not mean to make light off either of those topics... this was supposed to just be smut but even I couldn't turn it around to that point, which is why it ended up as this weird piece of 'unresolvedness'.
> 
> Tissue boxes to be found in the Comment section.


End file.
